


a small enough love

by oopsabird



Category: DC Extended Universe, Wonder Woman (2017), Wonder Woman - All Media Types
Genre: Friendship/Love, M/M, Napping, Pining, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 08:03:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsabird/pseuds/oopsabird
Summary: i don’t want to die. i just wanta little goddamn restand a small enough lovethat i can breathe around it.Charlie sleeps. Sami keeps watch.





	a small enough love

**Author's Note:**

> this little ficlet idea popped gently into my head last night and rolled itself out to completion in no time flat. I like it and it makes my heart feel soft
> 
> the fic title and the poetry verse in the summary are from an excerpt of _Wake_ by the very talented [Nathaniel Orion](https://nathanielorion.tumblr.com/post/167235218078/i-dont-want-to-die-i-just-want-a-little)

When someone didn’t sleep well in their bed at night, it turned out they tended to do a fair bit of sleeping everywhere and every time else.

Charlie was no exception to this rule. Ever since the ghosts of his nightmares started stealing his evening rest piece by piece, Sameer had noticed the Scotsman falling asleep in more and more unusual places day by day.

There he’d be on the sofa in Steve’s London office, sitting with his head tipped back and startling everyone else from their end-of-mission paperwork when he suddenly started to snore.

In the boxcar of a freight train winding itself through the mountains of Europe, curled up against a crate of god-only-knew-what with arms folded over his bent knees to act as a pillow and his rifle still slung over his back.

At a briefing with Command, head propped up on his hand by an elbow on the conference table, quickly disguising as a cough the surprised snort that escaped when Sami gently jabbed him in the ankle with the toe of a shoe and startled him abruptly awake.

Blinking in and out of consciousness in a muddy foxhole they all shared while waiting hours for their chance to cross the front, head bobbing and eyes drifting shut every few seconds against his own volition only to jolt wide open again each time another shell exploded somewhere nearby.

In the backseat of the old farm truck Chief had “borrowed” for them on their latest adventure, hat pulled down over his eyes and head lolling onto Sami’s shoulder beside him, so exhausted he didn’t even stir at all the bumps and ruts in the road as they bounced along towards the next part of their journey.

Slumped over on a barroom table as closing time was being called, a beer bottle clutched close to his chest in one hand and too many more scattered across the tabletop around him.

In the second armchair by the window of their dingy little London flat, found nodding off over his early morning jam and toast when Sami shuffled blearily out of his own room to begin making the coffee.

When he had volunteered yet again to take the first shift of night watch around the campfire, sitting propped up against a log just like the rifle beside him and mumbling harmless gibberish in his sleep.

It always caused a soft warm stirring in Sami’s chest, whenever he caught Charlie sleeping when he shouldn’t be. If he wanted to name the feeling, he might call it fondness — though he wouldn’t actually dare do so aloud, let alone explore what brought it on. Maybe it was the funny way Charlie’s mouth hung open sideways on the occasions when he snored, or how his unruly orange hair got all messed up when his hat slid off, or the way his face sometimes twitched amusingly in slumber; maybe it was the fact that he became so much more vulnerable than his usual cagey, guarded self, unprotected and unable to hold up against the forces of exhaustion no matter how stubbornly he tried.

Maybe, it was the fact that asleep he looked years younger, more like the man Sami had met back when this war was still new — the man who sang loudly, laughed often and without bitterness, who only drank on social occasions and who had bright lively eyes when he smiled. Sleep washed away from his thin face the deepest lines of stress and worry and perpetual exhaustion, and even a few of the ones that simply came with being men their age; when the nightmares didn’t come, sleep left Charlie looking untroubled, a sight which Sami felt he would pay many fortunes to see made permanent again.

In the absence of any such riches with which to buy their much-deserved peace, he simply did what little he could.

That meant keeping Charlie safe while he dozed, whether from physical perils or from the wrath of an offended general or from Etta throwing her pen across the office at his head. Making sure Charlie was comfortable, acting as a pillow if that was what his role was fated to be that day — Sami hated sitting still for too long, but if Charlie fell asleep on his shoulder he knew he wouldn’t move until his companion awoke again or they grew roots and stayed there, whichever came first.

Beside the campfire that night, Sami got to his feet and set his novel aside to shrug out of his own long striped overcoat, carefully tucking it over sleeping Charlie as a blanket against the winter chill. Satisfied, he took up his own rifle and wordlessly settled in beside him, to watch the stars and take over guard duty in his stead. In the morning, Charlie would argue about taking turns, but Sami didn’t care. He would do what needed to be done, ensuring that Charlie wouldn’t have to feel guilty about work going unfinished or the others going unprotected if he took a moment to rest his eyes.

Charlie’s sleep was precious, now that the night terrors had made it even more scarce than the very few hours they already got as soldiers — Sami would do what he could to protect from interruption what little sleep he got. He would take care of Charlie. Some days, in this war and in the face of the difficult world, it felt like the one thing he had the power to do.

Besides, that was what you did, when you loved someone. Sami had made a promise to himself some years ago, to look out for the awkward-yet-earnest musical Scot with the rough exterior and hidden gentle heart, and he would always keep that promise, for his best friend and for his love. Even if Charlie would never know the true depths of his affection, never know why he did it or sometimes even know he did it at all.

Glancing down from the stars, he watched the flames of the campfire flicker across the sharp angles of Charlie’s peaceful face, and he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly Sameer as a character is such a good cause we’re introduced to him as seeming to fit the stereotype of the self-serving con man who only cares for profit, but as the movie goes on it’s revealed that cons are just a means of survival for him and his real first priority is looking after and taking care of his loved ones and friends. what a softie, what a sweetheart
> 
> also somebody please let these boys have a nap god they look so tired all the time
> 
> trivia fact of the day: the campfire scene in this fic is inspired by a deleted scene in the movie in which Charlie at the camp insists (at great rambling length) to Steve on taking first watch because “you and that wee lassie need your beauty sleep” and “Charlie boy never sleeps!” and then the scene hard-cuts to him passed out face down and snoring. I love my goofball idiot son
> 
> if you enjoy me never shutting up about this ship here I can also be found doing the same on tumblr @oopsabird


End file.
